"Stay a bit, stay a bit," whispered Stokton, digging sharp claws into
Alwyn's arm; "let them go first,--a word with you, cunning Nick,--a
word."

Master Stokton, despite the tremor of his nerves, was a man of such
wealth and substance, that Alwyn might well take the request, thus
familiarly made, as a compliment not to be received discourteously;
moreover, he had his own reasons for hanging back from a procession
which his rank in the city did not require him to join.

While, therefore, the mayor and the other dignitaries left the hall
with as much state and order as if not going to meet an invading army,
but to join a holiday festival, Nicholas and Stokton lingered behind.

"Master Alwyn," said Stokton, then, with a sly wink of his eye, "you
have this day done yourself great credit; you will rise, I have my eye
on you! I have a daughter, I have a daughter! Aha! a lad like you
may come to great things!"

"I am much bounden to you, Master Stokton," returned Alwyn, somewhat
abstractedly; "but what's your will?"

"My will!--hum, I say, Nicholas, what's your advice? Quite right not
to go to blows. Odds costards! that mayor is a very tiger! But don't
you think it would be wiser not to join this procession? Edward IV.,
an' he ever come back, has a long memory. He deals at my ware, too,--
a good customer at a mercer's; and, Lord! how much money he owes the
city!--hum!--I would not seem ungrateful."

"But if you go not out with the rest, there be other mercers who will